


All of This

by yourebrilliant



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the conclusion of their greatest case, Sherlock and John think about what happens next</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of This

‘They did a good job restoring this,’ John commented, his quiet statement startling Sherlock from his introspection. He was sitting at the pool edge, his shoes and socks discarded, his expensive trousers rolled up to keep them dry, his pale, long-toed feet dangling in the water in an unusually whimsical pose.

‘Apparently they need to improve the security, however,’ Sherlock responded, returning his attention to the ripples emanating from the movement of his feet in the water.

‘Well, we’re kind of a special case, aren’t we?’ John settled himself next to Sherlock, stretching his legs out on the tiles, leaning back against Sherlock with their shoulders overlapping.

‘Why are you here, John?’ Sherlock asked, affecting boredom.

‘Looking for you,’ John said casually. ‘What?’ he laughed. ‘You think you can bugger off without a word and I won’t notice?’

Sherlock shrugged eloquently.

‘What are _you_ doing here, is the more interesting question,’ John commented, nudging Sherlock’s shoulder with his own.

‘I am thinking,’ Sherlock responded.

‘You’re always thinking,’ John retorted, ‘you don’t usually need to submerge your feet to do it.’

‘The location seemed appropriate, given the circumstances.’ Sherlock admitted, swinging one foot absent-mindedly. ‘I was thinking about “next”.’

‘God, yeah,’ John said, leaning back on his hands. ‘I hadn’t even thought about it. We’ve been so focussed on this for so long.’

‘Indeed,’ Sherlock commented quietly. ‘However, we did say we’d stop “all of this” when Moriarty was arrested, and he has demonstrably been arrested, so...next.’

‘Well, I don’t know, Sherlock!’ John exclaimed good naturedly. ‘I’d need a shave, a sleep, and a meal before I could make a decision like that. And so do you,’ he added, leaning closer. Sherlock moved abruptly, pulling his feet from the water and seeming to fold in on himself.

‘So you do intend to...stick to the plan?’ he asked quietly.

‘Here, Sherlock,’ John said, sitting up on his knees and leaning towards Sherlock, ‘what is this? We don’t have to decide what to do right now, we can talk about it later.’

Sherlock looked up then, his pupils wide in the darkness, his expression cautiously hopeful, and suddenly John understood.

‘You stupid genius,’ he exclaimed. ‘When I said “all of this” I meant serial killers and bloody Anderson and running about London at all times of the day and night. I didn’t mean _us_.’

Sherlock was too busy being relieved to comment on John’s somewhat offensive oxymoron.

‘I can’t believe you. You just...accepted that I was going to leave at some point? You never thought to _ask_ me?’

Sherlock had recovered enough to look haughty again. ‘All relationships have an expiry date, John.’

‘No,’ John said, standing up and dragging Sherlock with him. ‘No, you idiot. _This_ , okay,’ he gestured between them, ‘this doesn’t have an expiry date. In fact,’ he paused for a moment before nodding decisively, ‘I was going to save this for a more...traditional situation, but I suppose this is more apt, under the circumstances.’ He was reaching into his pockets as he spoke, retrieving a small square box. Sherlock’s mind whirred; small square box, most likely jewellery, and there was really only one piece of jewellery than one man gave to another, especially in light of John’s recent comments. ‘I’m not getting down on one knee because I’ll never get up again and you’re tall enough as it is, but, as you’ll no doubt have deduced by now, this is a wedding ring,’ he flipped open the box and the elegant gold band glittered in the lights from the swimming pool, ‘and I’m asking you to marry me.’

Sherlock stared at John, his eyes flickering from the band to John’s earnest expression. He had spent so much time trying to _accept_ that this relationship would end. Trying to inure himself to the knowledge. And now John was suggesting, _promising_ , that he would never leave. No expiry date. Logically, Sherlock knew that a significant percentage of marriages ended in divorce, but logic was making an unusually weak argument at the moment, overshadowed as it was by the rapid beating of his heart.

‘Sherlock? Any chance of a yes or no before my arm falls off?’ John was still proffering the ring, his facetious tone not quite masking the uncertainty Sherlock had caused with his delay.

‘Yes,’ Sherlock managed.

‘Yes I can get an answer?’ John asked cautiously.

‘Yes _is_ my answer,’ Sherlock clarified.

John beamed at him. ‘Just as bloody well, you pillock,’ he retorted, ‘you’d never find anyone else who’ll put up with bits of folk in the fridge.’

Sherlock retrieved his shoes and socks. ‘I do keep them in the crisper, for the most part,’ he commented, sitting on a bench to put them on again.

‘Yes, and it only took me five years to get you to do it.’ John retorted, unrolling one leg of Sherlock’s trousers.

‘Well, just think what you can manage with fifty more,’ Sherlock responded lightly. ‘You might even make me normal.’

John snorted. ‘I wouldn’t even try.’ He rolled down the other leg and moved to stand again. Sherlock grabbed the collar of his jumper.

‘And that is why I love you,’ he commented quietly. John closed the distance between them and Sherlock could feel John smiling against his lips.

‘Good,’ he said, standing again. ‘Let’s go home.’

‘Excellent plan,’ Sherlock said, rising from the bench. ‘After all, we’ve got a wedding to arrange.’


End file.
